Despite he’d just heard the words he’d been waiting for Alyssa to say, he couldn’t bring himself to swing her around in his arms like they were in a Taylor Swift music video. Back at the hotel she’d cut his chest wide open. He needed major surgery, not a butterfly bandage.
Seeing Alyssa act so completely out of character had skepticism and cynicism perching on his shoulders. He needed to press her for more. He needed to understand how she’d suddenly pulled a one eighty from an hour ago.
“So what’s changed?” he asked. “I know you, Aly. You take days to analyze the pros and cons before committing to a new toaster. How can I trust that over the next week, or even month, you’re not going to reevaluate things and tell me you made a mistake?”
Alyssa’s hands clenched at her sides, her shoulders pressed back the slightest bit, and she took a commanding step forward. “Because I realized something, and it sent my entire process into hyperdrive.” She furrowed her brow and bit her lip for a second. “No, scratch that,” she said, shaking her head. “My process went right out the window. There was no process and yet I can tell you with absolute certainty that I’ve never been more sure of myself.”
Dillon balled his fists inside the pockets of his tux pants, digging his nails into his palms to keep himself grounded, but his pulse jackhammered in his ears as his hope began to swell despite his efforts to tamp it down. “What did you realize?”
“That the very thing that’s kept us from being together all these years is the same thing that will keep us together.”
Maybe he was too exhausted to use his brain properly, but he couldn’t think of anything that could fit both roles as she claimed. “And that thing is…” he said, dragging out the last word.
Without hesitation, she answered, “Fear.”
Mentally, he reared back. He didn’t know what he’d expected her to say, but it sure as hell wasn’t that. “Fear,” he parroted.
“Yes.” She took another step forward, her eyes lighting up with excitement like she’d discovered the answer to an age-old mystery. “Our entire lives we’ve been afraid of failing at relationships, and not only that, but for lack of a better term, our fears complemented each other. You were afraid you wouldn’t be able to commit long-term, and I was afraid of loving someone who wouldn’t love me enough to stick around.”
“Aly, none of that is exactly news for me. I don’t get where you’re going with this.”
She took a steadying breath and continued. “I heard a song a few weeks ago, and one of the lines said that fear is at the heart of love. I thought it was ridiculous, that it made no sense. But now I get it.”
She killed the last couple feet of space between them. Her warm vanilla scent wrapped around him, weakening his resolve to hold himself in check and keep up the wall he’d erected to protect his battered heart.
“To love someone is to know fear. Gut-wrenching, soul-crushing fear. Fear that your love won’t always be enough. Fear that something terrible could rip them away from you. There are dozens, hundreds of scenarios, but they all come down to the same thing: when you love someone with all your heart, the scariest thing imaginable is having to live without them.” Bright blue eyes stared up at him, imploring him to understand. “Wouldn’t you agree?” she asked softly.
He had to clear his throat before his voice cooperated. “Okay, yeah. So what are you saying here, exactly?”
She took a deep breath and exhaled. “If there’s one thing I’ve always been certain of in my life, it was that you would uphold your promise to always protect me. What I realized tonight is that you included yourself in that promise. You wouldn’t have asked me to overcome my fear of abandonment to be with you if you thought that for one second there was a chance you’d ever leave me.”
She pressed her hands to her belly as though physically trying to suppress her nerves. “I love you, Dillon. With all that I am and all that I ever hope to be, I love you. I can’t tell you that I’m not scared, because I am. I’m terrified. But not as much as I am at the thought of living without your love, for however long you’ll give it to me.” Alyssa blinked back the moisture gathering in her eyes. “So if the proposal I never let you get to still stands, I’d like to accept.”
His heart raced as his brain processed her words. She wanted him the way he wanted her. She loved him the way he loved her. He heard her say it, and he had plenty of witnesses. No way in hell he was letting her hide behind their parents’ mistakes anymore.
A broad smile stretched his face as he reached into his pants pocket and withdrew a soft black velvet box. He tilted the lid back and revealed the stunning two-carat diamond ring he’d picked out for her. “I was going to give you this tonight on our first official date.” He got down on one knee and there was an audible gasp from the peanut gallery. He’d forgotten they had witnesses, but he didn’t give them a second thought as he lost himself in her bright blue eyes.
“Alyssa, I would be honored if you would let me help you tip the statistical scales in favor of successful marriages, prove that our parents’ pasts have no bearing on our future, and break the Miller Curse once and for all. Will you marry me?”
Tears fell unabashedly down her cheeks. “Yes.” She laughed and nodded emphatically. “A thousand times yes.”
Heart soaring, Dillon stood, held the sides of her face, and kissed her like a man starved. He tasted her salty relief as it flowed down her cheeks and between their lips. It wasn’t slow and sweet, but deep and all-consuming. He, too, now recognized the different fears that came with love. Even the irrational kind that told him if he let the kiss end, he’d find it was all a dream.
At last he had the woman he’d loved all his life—not only for a weekend or the occasional night, but for a lifetime—and he’d be damned if he was ever letting her go. Coming up for air, he rested his forehead against hers. “You know this is forever, right? No way I’m ever leaving you or letting you leave me. You’re mine, now and for always.”
Her eyes twinkled with tears of joy. “Sounds perfect. I can’t wait to get started.”
“Places, everyone!” The Mardi Gras ringmaster started arranging people like he was moving pawns on a chessboard. Before any of them knew what happened, Elvis stood behind the ticket podium with Alyssa and Dillon in front. Marilyn was placed next to Alyssa with the TSA model guy on the other side of Dillon. Everyone else was ushered into the seats behind them.
Alyssa raised her brows at him. “Um, Trent? What are you doing?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he said, gesturing to his handiwork proudly. “You said you couldn’t wait to get started, so I’m getting you hitched. I know the airport terminal is a tad gauche, but I figured since Elvis is a minister and we have plenty of witnesses, we can do this lickety-split and you two can move on to the honeymoon phase.”
Dillon’s entire body snapped to attention and he decided Trent was officially his new favorite person outside of his fiancée. But Alyssa seemed a bit more startled than excited, if her wide eyes were anything to go by. Dillon swallowed the bile creeping up the back of his throat at the thought of her shutting down again.
“Hitched,” she repeated. “As in married?” She swiveled her head, taking in their surroundings and the people gathered around them. “Here?”
Trent raised a dubious eyebrow. “Asks the girl who wore a wedding dress to the airport.”
“It’s not a wedding dress, it’s a ball—” she started, then cut herself off with a sigh and shake of her head. “Okay, you’re right.” She turned her attention back to Dillon and placed her hands inside his. He placed a kiss on the tops of each before holding them over his heart, hoping she could feel how strongly it beat for her as she continued. “It is a wedding gown. The moment I tried it on I fell in love with it. So I bought it for the masquerade ball on the off chance the Miller Curse is, you know, an actual thing.”
Dillon brushed a thumb along her cheekbone. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore. And you can wear it eve
ry day for all I care. But you might want to think about replacing the buttons with Velcro.”
She screwed up her face in distaste. “Why would I do something as tacky as that?”
“It’s either that or get a seamstress on retainer to reattach the buttons I constantly rip off.” He lifted a corner of his mouth in a sly grin, then spoke softly against her ear. “Because I’ll have zero patience when I want you naked and writhing beneath me.”
He pulled back and watched a flush sweep up her chest and settle in the apples of her cheeks. He could almost see the illicit images running through his mind reflected in the swirl of lust in her eyes. Alyssa swallowed and wet her lips. “What do you say we follow Trent’s lead and throw up that framing you mentioned earlier with a quickie Vegas wedding so we can get to the teamwork part of this relationship?”
Dillon searched her face for signs of uncertainty…and found none. Her features were serious, waiting for his answer. He barely suppressed the need to haul her against him and kiss her breathless and damn their audience to hell. Instead, he opted to wrap his arms around her and pull her in until nothing but layers of fabric separated them.
She had always been the one constant in his life, and he couldn’t believe it’d taken this crazy town and a romance convention to make him come to his senses. Yeah, this was the perfect place for them to take their vows.
“I’d say hell yes,” he rasped through the emotion clogging his throat. Without taking his eyes off hers, he said, “Trent, you may proceed.”
“Finally,” Trent said with an exasperated sigh. “Any longer and I would have died of old age.”
“Still a drama queen, I see, Trenton,” said Dillon’s “best man” with an amused smirk on his face.
“You shush. I’ll deal with you later. And be prepared to move your ass back in with me where you belong.”
The blond TSA employee smiled like a kid on Christmas morning as the women whispered a chorus of “awwwwws.” There was clearly some history here that Dillon didn’t know about, but his best man looked about as happy as Dillon felt, so he clapped him on the shoulder in congratulations as Trent gave the order to start the ceremony.
Elvis slapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Man, I really like Vegas.”
Dillon grinned at the famous quote and couldn’t have agreed more. Vegas had given him the woman of his dreams in twenty-four hours—and delivered her in a wedding dress to boot. “And Elvis,” he added, pinning Alyssa with a heated look, “give us the short version.”
Epilogue
Alyssa couldn’t hide her amusement as she listened to Dillon and his sister Maddy banter like they were still twelve.
“It’s called serial dating, sis. I should know; I’m a recovered offender.”
Maddy scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Please. My dating life is nothing like yours was, junior. You didn’t have dates with women. You had scheduled appointments for—”
“Maddy,” he barked, shifting his eyes to where Alyssa sat next to him on their couch. Alyssa placed her fingers over her mouth to hold in her laughter. Dillon hated that she knew so much about his past dalliances and liked to pretend they never happened. He was fond of telling Alyssa that from the moment he kissed her, all memories of other women vanished. And to be honest, she was fond of hearing it.
It’d been almost six months since they’d returned from Vegas a happily married couple. Dillon wasted no time in putting the town houses up on the market so he and Alyssa could buy a house together. It had been a harrowing few months of selling, searching, closing, and moving, but they were finally settled into their new home, and Alyssa couldn’t be happier.
They’d invited Maddy over for dinner, and now they sat in the living room, drinking coffee—though Maddy had opted for wine—and talking while they waited for dessert to be ready.
Maddy huffed out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, but you know what I’m talking about. I’m not dating to sow my wild oats or get them sowed into me or whatever the hell that metaphor would be for a girl. I’m interested in finding a partner I can share my life with, someone decent and honest and good. But all I find are crazies, liars, and assholes.”
Dillon narrowed his eyes and his jaw muscles flexed. “I don’t like you using those dating websites, Madison. You could be meeting up with psychos for all you know.”
“Don’t go all He-Man on me, little brother. The same thing is true if I were to meet guys at a bar or the grocery store, and in this day and age, if you want to connect with people, you do it online.”
Alyssa placed her hand on Dillon’s arm when she felt him tense in preparation for an argument. “Easy, Cujo.” When he relaxed enough to sit back, she turned to Maddy. “Maybe you should stop looking for a while. Give yourself a break. Love has a way of finding you when you least expect it.”
Dillon gave her thigh a squeeze, telling her he knew exactly what she meant. Though they’d both secretly wanted to be together for years, neither could have predicted the intensity of the love they’d find in one another. It was as though years and years of love had built up between them, contained only by the boundary of their friendship. And as soon as they crossed that line, everything slammed into them all at once. There’d been no easing into anything, no feelings that needed time to develop and grow. No, they’d gone straight from the best of friends to the best of lovers, which is why getting married twenty-four hours after their first kiss was anything but strange to them.
“Look, you two,” Maddy said. “I know you’re both in the disgustingly adorable honeymoon phase right now, but try to remember what it’s like in the real world.” She sat forward on the love seat and drilled her forefinger on the coffee table to punctuate her points. “I’m twenty-six. Even if I find a great guy tomorrow, there’s the getting-to-know-you phase, followed by the awkward maybe-I-should-keep-a-toothbrush-at-your-place period, then finally the big-scary-let’s-move-in-together step. All of that could take up to several years before there’s even mention of a proposal, assuming everything is still great. Then let’s assume he wants a long engagement. This puts me at getting married in my mid-to late thirties! And don’t even get me started on my odds of having children before I’m considered high risk due to age.”
She tipped her head back and drained the rest of her wine. Alyssa had never seen Maddy so lost before. After all, she’d known Maddy just as long as Dillon since they were twins. But as kids, they’d fought constantly and preferred not hanging out with each other, so Alyssa had never been close with her like she was with Dillon.
“My point is,” Maddy continued as she poured herself another glass of wine, “the perfect guy isn’t going to just randomly show up at my door. And that is why I date so much. He’s out there, and I’ll find him eventually. I just wish I didn’t have to date so many damn frogs first.”
As her sister-in-law took another fortifying sip, Alyssa glanced at the clock over the mantle. “Oh, excuse me; it’s time to put the finishing touches on dessert. I’ll be right back.”
…
“I’ll go with you. I need some more coffee.” Dillon stood and handed his sister the TV remote. “Here, Mad, feel free to channel surf.”
“Gee, thanks,” she mumbled.
Dillon ignored her sarcasm and stalked his wife as she made her way to the kitchen. After dinner she’d changed out of her work clothes into lounge wear. God bless the inventor of yoga pants. The light pink material hugged her ass like a second skin and watching her walk made his mouth water and his groin ache. It didn’t matter where he was or what time of the day, he always seemed to have Aly—more specifically a naked Aly—on his mind. He didn’t think he’d ever get enough of her.
“Should we be worried about Maddy?” she asked, picking up the small kitchen torch on the counter.
Dillon moved in behind her and wrapped his arms around her small waist. “I don’t want to talk about my sister. Despite her little episode back there, she’s still a ballbuster who can take care of herself.” He mo
ved her hair aside with his chin to nuzzle her neck and placed kisses behind her ear and his hands traveled up to cup her breasts over her tank top.
“Dillon.”
His name left her lips on a breathy moan that made his cock twitch behind his zipper. “Hmmm?” he asked absently, his mouth moving down the cord in her neck.
“I’m about to operate a mini-flamethrower. Perhaps you should let me concentrate.” He answered with a firm squeeze to her tits that made her breath catch, but still she managed to gain control enough to sound indifferent. “Unless of course you’d rather not bother with the crème brûlée…”
He froze and quickly weighed his options. He could say “screw it” and continue the path he was on, but then the desserts she’d put thought and effort into would be ruined. Or he could suck it up, throw a temporary restraining order on his dick, and enjoy his favorite dessert despite the extra workout he’d need tomorrow.
Growling in frustration, he took a reluctant step back. “Damn it, woman, you play dirty.”
She chuckled and motioned for him to stand on the other side of the counter before she began. She was right not to trust him until they had a large barrier between them. He had a hard time keeping his hands off her under normal circumstances, much less once he’d already lit the fuse.
Alyssa reached into the sugar bowl, pinched some sugar between her fingers, and slowly sprinkled it over the first dessert. She repeated the process for each of the six ramekins, purposely avoiding his molten gaze and most definitely taking her sweet-ass time. Finally, she finished and glanced up at him through her lashes as she sucked the bits of remaining sugar from her fingertips.
He fisted his hands on top of the counter and nearly ground his teeth into dust. “Aly,” he growled in warning.
She offered him a coquettish smile. “Yes, darling?”